Knotting Ribbons
by starry night blue
Summary: Lavendar Brown survived the war, but not without serious injuries that leave her hidden away. Can Viktor Krum be the one to bring her out?
1. Chapter 1

**D/C: I don't own Harry Potter.**

**Hello! Well, this is a bit of an odd pairing for me...I don't think it's ever been written either; I checked. Hehe. But this is for a fanfiction contest, where we have to make a romance between two unlikely characters - those two seemed VERY unlikely, so here you go. Enjoy!!**

**Knotting Ribbons**

**Chapter 1:**

The room was just a blur of colour; lustrous velvet in reds and gold, gleaming satin in blues and silver, shimmering chiffon in greens and yellows, orange chintz and pink sarcenets. Ribbons, shawls and samples of cloth were draped over arms of sofas or else lying in glittering pools on the brown moquette. Wherever you looked, you'd find a brilliant flowery pattern, a simple chequered one or unique stripes.

In the furthest wall of the room, sitting across from the French windows was a mahogany desk, on which a glossy blonde head was resting over several sheets of paper, bearing different designs and textures. A peacock quill poked out from one of the ink bottles on the desk, tickling the hairs on that blonde head. Soft music played in the background from an ancient, fancy-looking record player...but still the blonde wouldn't raise her head, not even when the cream-coloured double doors of the vast room opened and a dark-haired girl in a fuchsia Sari walked in.

"Lavender?" she said on spotting her at the desk. "Oh, Lavender, don't tell me you've slept here again."

The blonde stirred, and slowly lifted up her head from her designs. She pushed her long curtains of blond hair from her face and looked blearily at her best friend. "Oh, hello, Parvati," she murmured drowsily. She stretched her arms in front of her and cast a quick look around the room. "What's the time now?"

Parvati Patil sighed and shook her head. "It's ten in the morning, and you've gone and dozed off in the studio once more," she chastised her gently. "Seriously, you're going to overwork yourself to death."

"I got caught up in this design," Lavender Brown explained, and started searching through the sketches for the said design. She found it and held it up for Parvati to look at it. "See here, it's made of gold silk, with a silvery chintz sash. It has a bit of a plunging V-neck neckline, with silver lace sewn around the edges. I believe Madam Florence would like it, don't you agree?"

Parvati moved to the desk and picked up the design from her friend's hand. The sketched woman in the design was moving around the sheet, modelling for her so that she could see the dress robe from all angles. Lavender was brilliant when it came to designing robes; Parvati wasn't near as good as she was. However, Lavender was a terrible tailor, and that's where Parvati came in. The little _Patil and Brown_ design boutique was quite a success. As Madame Malkins was the only one who worked in the field of wizard clothing, people were more than delighted to try the designs of another robe maker, and their designs became really popular with the customers. Parvati took care of all other matters such as buying stocks of cloth and talking to the customers and taking their measurements...whereas Lavender just huddled behind her desk, her quill moving feverishly across the sheets.

Parvati had tried to convincing her several times to leave her working space and come down from the studio to the boutique below, but Lavender would mute out her words. It wasn't as if she feared them...it's just that she didn't want anyone to be afraid of her. She didn't want anyone to take one look at her scarred face and recoil in disgust. Her life had never been the same after that fateful night at Hogwarts, where lives were lost and destinies were decided. She wished she'd died that night instead of having to live with the hideous face Fenrir Greyback had given her. She just didn't lose her face that night, she lost her confidence and faith in a world she'd always thought would accept her no matter what. She'd lost connection with the outside; the only person she ever made contact with was Parvati...even her parents wouldn't see her that much. She refused to meet with anyone else.

Good looks had always been so important for her, but now she realised how superficial that made her seem. She knew now that relationships couldn't be built on outside appearances alone. Popularity had always mattered to her; she had dated Ron because he had become so popular. Beauty and fame...working in the boutique gave her that, in an indirect way, making her famous through her beautiful designs. Engrossing herself in her work, she was able to take her attention off of the dark thoughts which lurked in the back of her mind.

She looked up at Parvati from her thin, scarred face, and regarded her anxiously from her slightly sunken blue eyes. "What do you think?" she prompted her.

Parvati hit the design with the back of her hand. "It's beautiful, Lavender; you're a genius," she complimented her, and Lavender beamed; words like those always managed to keep her going. Parvati handed her back the design, and wadded off to look for piece of fabric. She bent down to pick up a burgundy piece. "So, guess who I ran into on my way here."

Lavender dipped the tip of her quill into the ink and pulled another sheet of parchment to her. "Who?" she asked, carefully sketching black lines across the grainy paper.

"Viktor Krum!" Parvati squealed. "The Bulgarian Seeker! You remember him, don't you?"

Lavender shot an incredulous look at her friend; as if anyone could forget that muscle-build and the stoic features. "Of course I remember him, Parvati," she said, sounding slightly exasperated. "Did you talk to him? What was he doing here?"

"Yes, I talked to him. He actually remembered me as Harry's date in the Yule Ball, and came to talk to me," she said, giggling. "He's been invited here to make a special appearance during this year's Quidditch Tournament. He said he was going to stay here for a couple of weeks."

"That sounds nice," Lavender said absently; she had soon lost interest in the conversation, and had returned to her sketches.

"And you won't guess what else he said to me!" Parvati went on, her voice becoming more animated by the second. "Apparently, he's heard about our boutique while in Bulgaria! There's this friend of his who keeps importing his robes from us, and Viktor thought they were really nice! He even asked me if we could have a robe made for him so that he can wear it during the Tournament!"

_That _caught Lavender's attention, and she looked up again. "H-he what?" she spluttered.

"Isn't it exciting?" Parvati said, grinning. "An international Quidditch player has requested one of our designs! He told me he would be coming around to the boutique later this afternoon, as he has some things to sort out during the morning, so that we can take his measurements and the design specifications. Oh, Lavender, you have to come down and meet him! He's brilliant; looks even more amazing than he did at the Yule Ball!"

Lavender stared at her like she was crazy. "Are you for real?" she demanded. "I can't meet Viktor! I can't have him look at my face! He's famous, for God's sake, one look at me, and he can go and spread it around the entire magical community in a mere few seconds! I'll be humiliated!"

Parvati's happy smile slipped off of her face. "Are you still going on about that, Lavender?" she said wearily. "Look, no one cares about the way your face look. What they care, and should care about is how your face got wounded. Once they know that you sustained those injuries whilst fighting in the final battle against You-Know-Who, they will all respect you. They'll see you as the courageous and strong Lavender; they'll adore you."

Lavender's quill-hand was shaking now, and she accidentally drew a streak across the sheet. In her frustration, she crumpled it up and threw it across the room, so that it rolled to a stop at Parvati's feet. "I don't want them to see me as the courageous and strong Lavender! I want them to see me as the pretty Lavender!" she cried, her eyes brimming with tears. "You have no idea, Parvati...you absolutely have no idea how it feels to wake up to a face like mine. I, myself, feel disgusted looking at it, and there's no way I will ever allow anyone to see it..."

"What about Bill Weasley, then?" Parvati pressed on, using her usual argument. "He has the same problem, but he's not ashamed of it. He's always walking up and down the streets of Diagon Alley, with his little daughter perched on his shoulders, not caring about those who look at him. If he can do it, then I don't see why you can't!"

"Good God, Parvati...Bill is a guy! It's different when you're a guy! Scars are actually sexy on guys! But on girls, they're just hideous!"

"I thought you'd given up on that superficial nonsense, Lavender."

Tears rolled down Lavender's cheeks, and she laid her head against her arms on the desk. "So did I, Parvati," she said in a choked whisper. "So did I."

**A/N: So, what did you think? Does it seem interesting enough? I have the next couple of chapters lined up...if I get reviews for this, then I'm updating. Thanks! **

_- S. N. B. _


	2. Chapter 2

**D/C: I don't own Harry Potter.**

**Hello again! Well, I can't believe I actually got five reviews on my first chapter! I was rather surprised, to tell you the truth; I didn't expect people to accept the Lavender/Viktor pairing. Well, anyway, I'll shut up now, and leave you to read the second chapter! Enjoy!**

**Knotting Ribbons**

**Chapter 2:**

Life was just a mixture of fabrics and designs for Lavender; nothing else mattered to her. She barely registered the tinkling of the bells downstairs as customer entered and left the boutique, as the tip of her quill moved across the parchment. She needn't bother about it anyway; Parvati knew how to take care of things. Indeed, she came up around lunch time to tell her that she's sold out ten robes, and taken measurements for five other robes. After that, she left in a flurry of fuchsia to bring them a bite to eat.

Deciding to give herself a break, Lavender dipped her quill back into the bottle of ink, and stood adjacent to the French windows, looking down at the busy streets of Diagon Alley, which were filled with shoppers bearing lumpy parcels, furtive-looking Ministry officials, or parents who were busy trying to shake their kids off of their arms. It all sounded so serene and natural...this was a world she was no longer part of. She was able to stand there and not be afraid of anyone looking up at her, because of a charm she'd placed on the glass.

As she watched, she thought she spotted a familiar face amongst the crowds, a sallow face who people were stopping to gawk at, and who was making his way purposely towards the boutique. Lavender held her breath; it was Viktor Krum! She immediately felt rather flustered; what would he do once he walked up close to the door and saw the CLOSED sign up? Would he turn on his heels, walk away and not make a second call? She hated to think that their boutique was going to lose a celebrity like Viktor, and she mentally willed Parvati to return and graciously invite him inside for his robe measurements.

However, the distinctive tinkling of the bells that were hung above their door told her that Parvati must've forgotten to lock up and put the sign, and she find herself being rooted to the spot, especially when Viktor's clear and loud voice carried up to her studio, calling, "Miss Patil, are you here by any chance? I've come for my measurements!"

Lavender, needless to say, was feeling absolutely frantic. She paced around in circles in the centre of the room as she contemplated the best move, her platforms making soft thudding noises against the moquette. Should she just ignore him and wait till he left the place before hurrying down to lock up? Should she call down to him telling him that Parvati wasn't here, but she would be back in a few minutes? Or maybe...just maybe she should go and meet him herself?

She immediately shook that idea out of her head. She would never go and meet Viktor; she wouldn't allow him to see how horrible her face looked. She bit down at her bottom look and turned back to the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of Parvati, but there was no visible trace of fuchsia anywhere.

"Miss Patil?" Viktor called again.

Lavender gritted her teeth; it was as if Parvati had done this on purpose...forgetting to put up the sign and going out in the time when Krum would be most likely to arrive, in order to force her into meeting him, because she knew her well enough to figure out that she'd never let a customer like him slip from between her grasp. As she tried to figure head or tails out of her dilemma, her gaze fell on a golden mask she'd been fashioning for a client's masquerade ball. She hurried forward and picked it up. It was a replica of the theatre's famous "happy face", made of gleaming gold silk, with the edges embroidered with glimmering ruby-red rhinestones, and as an extra effect, a short red feather was sewn across each of the eye holes, so that they rather looked like eyebrows.

Taking in a deep breath, Lavender gingerly placed it on her face, and sprinted out of the studio. Lifting up the skirts of her long robes, she rushed down the staircase, and caught up with Viktor just as he was heading out of the door.

"Mr. Krum!" she cried out breathlessly, clutching a stitch at her chest.

Viktor released the door knob from his grip and turned around to look at her. However, he frowned when he came to face a golden masquerade mask instead of the friendly Asian face of Parvati Patil. "Er...Miss Patil?" he said uncertainly.

"Oh, no. I'm not Parvati; I'm just her friend, Lavender Brown," she said quickly. "Parvati went out to get lunch; she'll be back in a few minutes, though. So, if you'll just sit and wait on the sofa over there...and I'll ask the house elf to get you a drink. When Parvati returns she'll take your measurements and..."

"I'm sorry, Miss Brown, but can't _you _do that?" he interrupted her.

"E-excuse me?" she stammered.

"I'm in a terrible hurry, Miss Brown," he pleaded with her. "If I don't have my measurements taken now, there von't be enough time to have these robes made, especially since the Quidditch tournament starts in just a couple of days."

"Well..." Lavender said in a strained voice. She didn't want to approach Viktor; she hadn't been close to anyone in quite a while, and taking his measurements meant that she'd have to stand right near him, and maybe even touch him...and she couldn't deal with that.

"Miss Brown?" he said, sounding slightly impatient.

She sighed in resignation. "Oh, alright; I'll take your measurements," she agreed. She grabbed the roll of measuring tape and a piece of parchment and a quill, and walked towards him. "Erm...if you could just hold out your arms..."

Silently, Viktor held out his arms to his sides. Taking a deep breath, she stepped behind him and placed the end of the tape at the base of his neck, and it rolled down the length of his back and to his feet. She had barely leaned down to note down the measurement, catching a brief glimpse of striped purple socks right below the hem of his robes, when the tape sprang up and snaked its way up to Viktor's arms, where it stretched itself along the length of them. Again, Lavender had to make haste to take down the measurement, before it curled itself around Viktor's neck. She almost giggled then, when she saw the look of alarm on his face, and she quickly noted the diameter of his neck so that the tape now slithered down to bind itself around his torso.

"Wow."

Lavender couldn't help it; that expression had just rolled off her tongue before she could even stop it, but Viktor's torso diameter was a remarkable 56 inches – she hadn't expected that considering how loose the plain navy-blue robes he was wearing were. She glanced up at his face to see a bemused smirk playing across his lips, and she felt herself blushing underneath her mask.

"You must work out a lot," she said, matter-of-factly.

"That I do," he admitted. "I play Quidditch, after all."

Lavender almost smacked her forehead; of course, how did she forget about that? It was only natural that he'd have such a built when he played all the time...it was just that Ron had always been rather thin. The measuring tape, now finished with its work, dropped in a tangled mess to the floor at Viktor's feet. Just as she bent to pick it up, Viktor said, "Here, let me get it for you", and before she could pull her self back up, she had knocked into him.

What happened next seemed like a slowly-rolling film. The masquerade mask lost its hold on Lavender's face, and it slid away from it. She made a desperate grab for it, but it was futile; the mask slipped out of her shaking fingers and fell to the floor with a dull clatter. She just stayed there long enough to see Parvati coming in through the door, and the look of utmost shock on Viktor's face, before she fled the scene. As she rushed up the staircase to her sanctuary, tears of humiliation streaming down her cheeks, she could hear her friend hastily apologising to Viktor for her tardiness...but she heard no sound from Viktor; her revolting face had probably rendered him speechless.

She burst into the studio, and slammed the door shut behind her. She made a dart for the sofa, but she tripped over the long hem of her pale robes and toppled to the floor over a small pile of lilac silk, which smelled strongly of musk and nutmeg. She didn't bother to pick herself up, she just lay there sprawled on the floor, letting the scents overwhelm her while her tears stained the soft, expensive fabric. Her sobs were loud and anguished, and it was either them or her crash to the floor which brought Parvati within seconds to her side, where she sat and stroked her hair, murmuring words of condolence into her ear.

"It's okay, Lavender. It's going to be okay."

-

**A/N: Yay! Chapter two complete! What did you think of this? Did I get the amount of drama okay? How were Lavender's reactions? Good? Well, please tell me what you think of the chapter, won't you? And wait for the next chapter; I'll update soon!**

_- S. N. B. _


	3. Chapter 3

**D/C: I don't own Harry Potter.**

**Hello! I'm so sorry it took me so long to update! I was busy working on some other things! Anyway, thank you so much for the reviews, and without further ado, I present to you chapter 3! Enjoy!**

**Knotting Ribbons**

**Chapter 3:**

Lavender refused to eat anything or talk to Parvati for the rest of the day. She just sat next to the window, wrapped in her blanket of lilac silk, gazing down at the streets. Her designs were abandoned the desk, and so was the lunch box Parvati had brought along with her earlier. Tears stained her face, and her throat felt rather parched, but she didn't make an effort to get up and wash up, or even get a glass of water for herself. The only thing she did was replay the look on Viktor's face over and over in her mind, and when she did that, tears would start rolling down her cheeks again.

"He had apologised for upsetting you, Lavender," Parvati had told her, in an attempt to lure her into giving up her fast and eating something. "He looked very troubled because he'd caused you grief. When I explained to him what happened to you, he told me he thought you were brave beyond words...and that he was the one who didn't deserve to be looked at by you."

Lavender just shook her head and glared at Parvati; she was angry at her...angry because she was the one who had led her into that situation. But she was angrier because she was lying to her now...she wanted to believe her, but she knew it wasn't the truth, and that made things all the more upsetting for her.

"Look...here's the design he requested," Parvati had continued to say; hoping that maybe Lavender's passion for clothes and fashion would make her forget the events of the afternoon. "He wants it to be made of the deepest red velvet, with gold trimmings around the hems, the cuffs and the high collar. He also said we could improvise with it, that he didn't mind if we added our own personal touch. Oh, and he also requested another set of robes."

Lavender's curiosity flared for a moment there, but she showed no signs of it.

"Yeah...it's for a girl, though," Parvati went on, and Lavender felt scornful despite herself; those other robes were probably for a stunningly beautiful girl who was going to accompany him to the tournament. "He wants them in lilac silk...just like the one you're holding, Lavender, and they are to be feminine and flowing and...well, he asked us to improvise again. What do you think?"

Lavender thought that she wasn't interested anymore. She didn't care for her designs and her robes anymore. She just wanted to sit here and contemplate the best way to be rid of her hideousness forever. All other sounds and images were unimportant to her at the moment; everything was just a hazy blur where she couldn't make heads or tails out of anything. She hadn't been forced to deal with revulsion for the good part of three years, and to have it impaled on her so suddenly...and by a celebrity, nonetheless...it was too much for her. It made her realise that she couldn't go on living like this. One day this little business of theirs might go bankrupt, and they might have to sell the boutique and the studio, and she'll be forced to go back into living with her parents, where their nosy neighbours would be always popping in to see how the darling daughter was doing...and she wouldn't be safe anymore.

She didn't want that; she didn't want the feeling of helplessness and desperation consuming her again...just like the time it consumed her when Greyback was on top of her, tearing and clawing at her face...the helplessness in not being able to defend herself, and the desperation for the desire to die...to die and end all her misery and pain.

Death – it seemed like the easiest way out. She hated whoever had rescued her from Greyback...she wished they'd just let him kill her on the spot. Back then, she was grateful, but now...

It soon was time to lock up the store, and Parvati peered uncertainly around the studio's door, only to find Lavender sitting at her desk, the pieces of parchment containing the rough sketch of Viktor's two sets of robes pulled open before her, which she glanced frequently at before turning to the parchment where she was "improvising" a design. Parvati looked rather relieved that her friend had pulled herself out of her state of depression, and she stole out of the room as silently as possible, not wishing to disturb her during her work.

Lavender hadn't noticed her. She was intent on finishing her work as soon as possible. She wanted the robes to be marvellous, and nothing less...for they were to be her final pieces.

-

Two days later, Parvati stepped into the boutique with a sinking feeling that something was not right. Turning over the sign so that the word "OPEN" was displayed to the general public, she took the staircase and hurried up to the studio, where Lavender had locked herself in for three continuous nights. She tried the knob, and felt a sense of relief mingled with dread when the door swung open.

"Lavender?" she called into the room.

Lavender was nowhere to be seen in the midst of all the glittering fabrics. The mahogany desk was bare except for one roll of parchment, and the curtains were drawn back, and...laid out across two of the sofas, were two magnificent robes – one in deep red, and the other in pale purple. Parvati drew near to the sofas to further inspect the robes. The red one was in velvet, gleaming and magnificent. Gold threads adorned all the edges. She leaned closer for a better look, and saw that there was a beautiful swirly pattern sewn throughout the fabric in a lighter shade of red. It was a simple design, but yet it was handsome in its own way. As for other set...Parvati thought it was breath-taking.

Lavender had apparently cleaned the lilac cloth she had been wrapping herself in, and had used it to make the robes. It was flowing and elegant, just like Viktor had requested. It seemed that since Lavender had no idea what the size of the girl who was going to wear the robes was, she had opted for the wrap-around style. The piece of cloth which was to knot the ribbon around the waist was made of glittering lilac chiffon. Around the hems of the neck tiny little white flowers were sewn to the neck, and they seemed so real…and if she wasn't mistaken, there were little beads of dew on the petals, which sparkled in the light. Just like Viktor's robes, these ones had a pattern sewn throughout the entire thing – Lavender had used a silvery thread, and had used the shape of roses for a definite pattern, and the roses themselves seemed to reflect many colours off the fabric.

Parvati was in awe; these had o be the most beautiful robes she had ever seen. She, herself, wouldn't have been able to tailor them to their current perfection. This was why Lavender had had herself locked in the studio for the past two days. Remembering Lavender, she felt a bubble of panic building up inside her. She hurried to the desk, and picked up the only item on it. She released the roll of parchment from the black ribbon that was binding it, and unfolded the letter. It was short, but to the point, and it sent a wave of fear washing over her.

_**Dear Parvati,**_

Thank you for the best three years of my life. You made them worthwhile.

I'm eternally grateful to you, but I'm afraid this is good-bye. Please don't hate me for this. 

Love,

L. B 

Parvati stared in horror at the letter. Her eyes travelled over the words over and over again, while she tried to make sense of them...tried to fathom a different meaning for them than the visible meaning they had. Her hands shook as she gripped the letter, and her eyes swam with tears. She couldn't think straight...she couldn't decide what to do; she was torn between the necessity of going out to look for her best friend, and the desire to just crumple to the warm moquette and cry.

Just then, she heard the tinkling of bells downstairs, and she forced herself to drop the letter and go down to the boutique. She'd just send off the customer, lock the place, and not return until she'd found Lavender. She paused a bit when she saw Viktor standing there next to the counter...the person Lavender had spent the last two days trying to create the best robes for. 

"Ah...Miss Patil," he said with a polite smile. "I've come for my robes."

"The robes?" she said distractedly. "Ah, yes, they're ready."

"Vell, that's good to hear," he said, smiling. "Can I have them?"

"S-sure, they're just up in the studio," she replied. "Let me just get them for you...shall I?"

She made a move to go back through the door behind which there was the staircase that led up to the studio, but he called her back. "Oh, and Miss Patil, if it's not too much trouble, vuld you ask Miss Brown to bring them down for me?" he asked. "I vuld very much like it if she vere to come and see me."

"Lavender?" Parvati said stupidly.

"Yes, isn't she here?"

Parvati seemed to sway on the spot, and Viktor hurried around the counter to catch her before she fell to the floor. He eased her back into a chair, and knelt down before her so he could have a better look at her. "Are you alright? Should I get you a glass of vater?" he asked, concerned.

Parvati shook her head, her eyes brimming with tears. "No, no, I'm okay," she assured him. "It's just...Lavender. She's...Lavender is..." 

A look of alarm spread across the Bulgarian's face, and he grabbed Parvati's shoulders and squeezed them gently. "Vat about Lavender? Vat happened to her?" he demanded, appearing restless now. "Is she ill? Is she hurt?"

Again, Parvati shook her head, her beautiful dark tresses shaking with it. Her posture seemed to peter out, and she broke into loud sobs. The tears flowed freely down her cheeks, and before she knew it, she had leaned against Viktor and was crying into his shoulder. "She...she left a note," she choked. "I found it this morning. She...she said this was g-good-bye! I think...I think she's going to kill herself! She's going to kill herself, Viktor!"

Viktor's eyes widened. "She vat?" he said hoarsely.

"She disappeared! I don't know what to do! I don't know where to look for her!" Parvati wailed. "She...she could be dead by now!"

"No, Miss Patil, do not say that! She's alright. Ve just need to look for her. Do you know vere she might be? Do you have any idea vere she might've gone?" he said, trying to hide the alarm and anxiety in his voice. Parvati shook her head helplessly, and he was shaking her now. "You must know something! Please try to remember! Did she mention a place she vuld like to go to?"

"She...she always said something about wanting to go to Paris, since it's the city of fashion and beauty..." Parvati hiccupped, and Viktor released her and vanished from before her with a loud pop, leaving her staring, perplexed, into the space where he'd been standing.

-

**A/N: Well, what did you think? Was it good? Well, I await your comments! Please review!**

_- S. N. B. _


	4. Chapter 4

**D/C: I don't own Harry Potter.**

**Hello! I'm back with my forth, and final chapter! Thanks for the reviews you've sent last time – I'm glad you all liked it. But for now, I'll leave you to read, shall I? Enjoy!!**

**Knotting Ribbons**

**Chapter 4:**

He blamed himself...Viktor felt as if this whole deal with Lavender was his fault from the very beginning. She had been doing fine...or so was apparent to him, until he had come and knocked off her mask. She had probably worked hard to hide her face from outsiders, and to have it exposed in front of him...whom she deemed a celebrity...it was probably very devastating for her. He had to find her. He wouldn't forgive himself if she hurt herself. It was his fault.

Running down the elegant streets of Paris, Viktor appeared like a total alien in his long black robes and ashen face. Parisians in Chanel and Givenchy were pulling back the leashes on their dogs, halting their conversations, and stopping to look at this dark-haired foreigner, and he could only guess what they might be thinking about him...but he didn't care. The only thing he cared about was finding Lavender. That was the only thought which filled his mind as he raced down the boutique-lined streets of the Champs-Elysees.

He knew she must be around here somewhere...she loved fashion, and this was the grandest street in Paris for fashion. He kept a look out for a strangely-dressed individual, a bowed head or a masquerade mask, but she was nowhere to be found. Once, he had grabbed the shoulder of a blonde girl who had been stooping a little, but then he realised she was just fishing in her bag for some item, and had to endure a series of French words from her which could only be swears and curses, which he could only respond to with a desperate, "Pardon! Pardon!"

He didn't register the time, and only realised that he must've been running around for a while now when his legs started to ache and the street lamps were lit up. He stopped to catch his breath by an iron-wrought fence, and collapsed on a nearby bench. He wished he had eaten, or even drank something before setting out on this "exploit", but he had been in such a terrible hurry to even think about food. He looked up, his gaze falling on the feet of the Eiffel Tower, which in his anxiety he had failed to notice. It was all lit up now, and looked like a huge shimmering pillar against the night's starry sky. He found himself wondering what it would be like to fly up to the top of the tower, and then come swirling down to the bottom...it would be too bloody awesome.

[iDamn Muggle regulations...[/i

He had been so distracted by the sight of the Tower, he had failed to notice the figure cloaked in blue velvet approaching. He failed to notice how hesitant the figure looked, how she seemed to want to run away from him at any given moment. He only really noticed when the figure came to a stop a few inches away from him. He slowly looked up and his eyes rested on the face that was mostly obscured by the shadows of its hood...but it didn't take a genius to figure out who that was.

"Miss Brown?" he said carefully.

The figure seemed to flinch momentarily at the mention of the name, before nodding in defeat. Viktor jumped up to his feet, and his hands involuntarily gripped her arms...as if trying to prevent her from disappearing all over again. She flinched again at his touch, and he could feel that she was rather tensed up. 

"Miss Brown," he said yet again, releasing his grip. "Umm...Miss Patil vas vorried about you; she...she sent me to look for you."

Lavender seemed to shift ever so slightly. "She shouldn't have done that," she finally murmured.

Viktor's brow furrowed. "Vat are you talking about?" he demanded. "You left a note telling her that you vere going to kill yourself! You don't expect her to treat that as if it vere nothing, do you? For God's sake, you are her best friend, aren't you? She vas terrified for you!"

To his astonishment, however, Lavender released a shaky laugh. "Kill myself? Whatever gave Parvati that idea?" she wheezed. "Honestly, she can be such a drama queen sometimes..."

"Are you stupid?" he snapped; he was starting to loose his patience – he had been running around the whole day enough; he was tired, hungry, agitated and anxious beyond words. A laughing Lavender was not the image he had in mind. She immediately stopped laughing now. "Look here, Lavender, you can't just leave people farewell letters and expect them to be calm and collected about it! Miss Patil vas crying! She vas very upset! She cares about you, and all you can do is laugh about her?"

Lavender didn't say anything, and he wondered vaguely if she was taken speechless, or if she didn't have any sort of argument.

"Lavender," he said, more gently now. He reached out for her. "You can't just decide to end your life like that. Think about all the people vu vould miss you."

That, obviously, was the wrong thing to say; it seemed to flare Lavender's pent-up anger. She slapped his hand away and, in a move which he hadn't seen coming, pulled back her hood so that he know had full view of her manipulated face...it required Viktor a lot of strength to not look away. Lavender's once-beautiful face was completely undistinguishable; deep scars ran across one side of her face, while the other side bore the unmistakable look of leathery skin where the beast had torn at it. Even the girl's pretty blue eyes stared at him from amidst the disfigured features, sparkling with anguished tears.

"Who would miss this repulsiveness?" she cried. "If I die, no one will despair over my dead body. [iAu contraire[/i, they will try to bury me as quickly as they could, just so they wouldn't have to look at my face again!"

"No, that's not true..." Viktor murmured, but he knew he wasn't being honest.

"It is! You can't even bring yourself to look at me! I know you just want to turn around and run from me!" she said scathingly. "I know you probably wish you never even came looking for me! I'm hideous, Viktor! I can't even bring my old boyfriend to look at me! Parvati doesn't like looking at me, either! She always busies herself with something while she talks to me! I don't blame her, though...even my parents refuse to look me in the eye. I'm a monster."

"No, don't say that; you're not a monster. You know it doesn't matter how you look," Viktor said, and he doubted himself as he did – he'd always been such a materialistic individual; he really cared about looks. He liked whatever was beautiful, and shunned the ugly...the front image was very important to him. But there was something about Lavender...she was broken. He thought that at some time she must've been a very lively-spirited young lady, but unfortunate events had reduced her to a hiding, scared shadow of a girl. There was something so fragile...yet so strong about her.

"You don't mean that," she said, scowling. The tears were threatening to roll down her cheeks, but he could see that she was desperately trying to fight them back. "Don't think I don't know that looks are important to you...you went after Hermione!"

Viktor flinched. "I didn't like Her-my-knee just because of her looks!" he protested, and she raised her eyebrow at him...at least, that's what he thought she was doing; it was difficult to tell. "She vas a very nice girl, vu became friends viz me because she liked me, and not Viktor Krum, the international Quidditch player."

Lavender faltered a bit. "That doesn't mean anything," she snapped. "She's still pretty, isn't she? That's what attracted you to her!"

Viktor was feeling more weirded out by the second, because for some reason, this conversation was starting to sound like a petty lovers' quarrel to him, and it was strange...this was his and Lavender's first proper conversation, and all they seemed to be talking about is what interests the other...Viktor didn't know about Lavender, but he was pretty sure that this wasn't how people got to know each other. He didn't mind, though...he found it slightly refreshing.

"Lavender..." he started again, trying to begin a rational conversation with a girl who might whip out a dagger and stab herself any moment now, for all he knew. "Let's just go back to Miss Patil, alright? I'm sure she'll be delighted to see you."

"Don't give me that crap!" she shot at him. "Parvati's well off being rid of me! Just...go. Tell her I'm not coming back. I'm not going to kill myself...I had changed my mind upon arriving here...actually, I never even had the guts to take my life away."

"Why did...?"

"I just said that so she'd never come to look for me!" Lavender cut him off. "I thought...I thought that if I told her I'm going to kill myself, then she'd forget about me, and won't even think about coming after me..." She broke off and smiled weakly at him. "...obviously, I was wrong."

"Lavender..."

"Go! I know you can't stand looking at me anymore! So just turn and go! I won't begrudge you for that! Go on, Viktor...just leave," she pleaded. 

The next thing was just a blur of utmost confusion. He didn't know what made him do it, but Viktor had suddenly grabbed Lavender's arm and pulled her towards him. She had barely reacted when his lips had fell on hers, and he was pressing his lips to hers in a gentle kiss. Lavender's eyes widened in shock, and she struggled to push him away. Viktor wasn't a gentleman in the perfect sense, but he knew when a girl needed her space, and he released her from his arms. Lavender stepped away from him, hand covering her mouth.

"Why'd you do that?" she said hoarsely.

"Vas it bad?" 

"No...I mean, yes! I mean..." Lavender's voice trailed off for a moment, and she looked warily at him. "...weren't you [idisgusted[/i?"

Viktor blinked. "Vy should I be?" he demanded, and she gave him a perplexed look. "Ven I vas kissing you, the only thing I had in mind was that I vas kissing a very fiery young lady...that's all I was thinking about. I don't care about the vay you look, Lavender...good looks meant the vorld to me some time earlier, but strangely, they didn't matter ven it came to you."

Lavender seemed to blush then, and she averted her eyes from him. "Thank you," she said in a voice that was a little louder than a whisper.

Viktor then held out a hand for her, and she gingerly took it. "Miss Brown, I'm afraid I made you make your own dress robes," he told her, and she blinked in confusion. "But I hope you'll forgive my uncouth act ven I ask you to ver it and be my companion to the opening of the Quidditch Tournament tomorrow. I vill appreciate it if you say yes."

He wasn't lying. He really had wanted to invite her to the tournament as a way of apology...this night had nothing to do with this decision. Lavender looked dubiously at him, and he tried his best not to give off any impression that might turn her off...so he was very relieved when her face relaxed into a smile, and Viktor was awed at how beautiful her smile looked amidst all the scars.

"Yes, I'd love to come."

**-**

**A/N: Sooo? Did you like it? Was it too dramatic or unrealistic? I just think things could happen when you're caught in the spur of the moment, am I right? This is really my final chapter, but if you think there should be an epilogue, please tell me and I'll consider writing it. Until then, thanks to all those who read and reviewed this chapter, disregarding the weirdness of this pairing! (smiles) Thank you so much!!**

_- S. N. B. _


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